Put words into my daughter’s mouth

It has been 22 days since my last blog post on February 1. I have been kept busy by my colleagues at ibibo.com …so nothing to complain there.

On the personal front, Rhea has started getting super-active and it hurts to leave her playing by herself and sit in front of the laptop to write a blog post.

In the last two months, media has been happy with me too. Here are some media mentions worth sharing:

1) Interview with Digimouth (where surprise of all surprises, I get labeled as India`s funniest blogger!)

2) Anusha Parthasarthy interviewed me for The Hindu and titled it ‘Jamming with Jammy.` To see the interview visit Page 3 of this e-paper. Click Here

3) A Deccan Chronicle correspondent quotes me in a story on niche networks. Click Here

4) Quoted at midcareers.com, for taking up jobs that aren`t related at all. From sports journalist, to Corporate communications person, to now community builder on the internet (some serious stuff). Click Here

Anyway, that`s all the boring stuff. Now, let us get back to business….can you put words into my daughter`s mouth.

See how creative you can get and put words into the speech bubble in the photograph below. Will announce the best during my next post…and if the winner is fine with it, will courier him/her my favourite book: Catcher in the Rye!

More Funny Reads

# Crossing one`s Tea
# Music and I go a long way (away from each other)
# The ‘Quick Retort` Contest
# Can you put words into my mouth?
# Much married, much harried

Fourth free birthday gift

I always wanted to be somebody in life. Somebody big and famous…somebody people rushed to meet…somebody people wrote to…basically somebody big. But I guess I should have been more specific in my prayers for God made me a funny blogger. Barring a few incidents here and there (mostly with credit card companies where I had failed to re-pay the dues), no one chased me.

There were a few mails from here and there but they were all from 60 years-plus-old-men & women, who when the newspapers didn`t publish their Letters to the Editor, wrote to me. It was their revenge towards the Times of Indias, The Hindustan Times & The Hindus (Sometimes, I wonder why we don`t have a newspaper called – The Muslims!).

It was during one such summer that I received a mail from a Gurgaon girl asking for blog post dedicated to her on her birthday. Over the next three years these requests would continue and lead to three different blog posts – all on her birthday, Jan 31 (I can`t give you the year…but its 20th century for sure). Here are the posts:

2006 – A Birthday Post for Himani Sahni
2007 – And then, one year flew by
2008 – Third, Free Birthday Post

If you are a girl, you are probably wondering how a girl can get in touch with a complete stranger…that too online? Trust me it is safer than going to a pub in Mangalore. If you are a gentleman, you are probably wondering, “Wow…Jammy is so lucky. Girls contact him.”

Not really. You probably think being a humor blogger is great. Perhaps, I have to tell you what happened when we this Gurgaon girl and I first met – in Kentucky Friend Chicken, Gurgaon. Mind you, I hadn`t seen her before and she had only seen pictures of mine taken when I was young and dare I add, handsome.

“Hey, I am looking for an amateur humor blogger. And you look like one….no offence…ok…just checking if you are the blogger I am supposed to meet.”

“I am sorry. Don`t think I am the person you looking for. I am not an amateur.” An indignant me responded.

“You sure seem like you would be 165 cms tall. Can you stand up?”

“Hey listen girl…nobody measures me. Why don`t you wait for this stupid amateur blogger to turn up and leave me alone.”

We both waited for an hour before better sense prevailed and I walked up to her and said, “So, what is this amateur humor blogger`s url?”

“Ouchmytoe.com…why do you ask?”

Anyway, the point is…being a humor blogger isn`t great. You get insulted at every sentence of yours. It is like being a Himesh Reshammiya – kids, women & men make fun of you knowing fully well that you have been giving only hits!

Anyway, so this Gurgaon girl, who is now married and stays in Mumbai called me a few days back and said: “Hope you haven`t forgotten that my birthday is coming up.”

“Who is this and when is your birthday?” I fingered my glasses higher up my nose bridge.

“Jan 31…remember?”

“Ohh yeah. But you definitely don`t sound like Justin Timberlake!”
(Just in case you didn`t know Justin Timberlake celebrates his birthday on Jan 31 – of every year)

Finally, I recognized the voice and told her that I won`t be able to write a blog post on her birthday. I tried to reason out – wouldn`t a fourth post on a single girl upset the other ladies reading this blog? Moreover, she was now married and I had to tread carefully.

“Ohh come on. This would only mean more publicity. My husband would also read and he would also forward the post to his friends – more publicity!”

Before I kept the phone down, I did manage to tell her that I didn`t consider my obituary appearing in the newspaper as publicity.

The determined girl called me again.

“I want you to write a blog post on me, on my birthday – I have so gotten used to it in the last three years!”

I tried to explain it to her that she was being unreasonable. When my persuasion skills failed, I tried to use a story that always works: “Dear girl…you can`t always hope for everything in life. When I was a kid….I wanted to own a nice set of Reebok shoes….my father couldn`t afford it…and naturally I was really frustrated. It was then, that I saw a man without legs…and realized that while I was worried about not having Reebok shoes for my feet…there were people who didn`t have feet to wear shoes.”

Without batting an eye lid, she shouted over the phone: “But if he didn`t have feet to wear shoes…you could have borrowed his shoes. What use were they to him, anyway?”

So, ladies & gentlemen…here goes the forth free birthday post – with the promise that this will be the last one. As I said earlier…I don`t want free publicity.

More Funny Birthday Posts

# Today is my 33rd happy birthday
# Today is my ‘happy` birthday – 2007
# Rekha`s birthday – the best ever
# Celebrating birthday economy class
# It is my Happy Birthday today – 2006

Pink – the color of my life

My life has been suddenly inundated with the color pink. Where ever I see, I see pink. Yes you got it right…the color that one gets by mixing red and white in equal proportions. The color a woman would kill for – pink.

No, I haven`t received a pink slip from the organization I work for, but if I continue to bring in more pink into my life as I have been doing for the last six months…the day isn`t far when my colleagues will throw me out calling me queer.

Just in case you didn`t know, no company in the World has ever given a pink colored termination letter to its employees – there is no origin to the term ‘pink slip`. Researchers believe that it could have been an alien term that Bruce Willis and his team picked up when they went up an asteroid to blow it in the movie ‘Armageddon`. But its origin is besides the point…what bothers me is most is…why use such a feminine term ‘pink slip` for such a manly act? Why don`t we use macho terms like ‘the employee was given the axe` or ‘the employee fell for the cut.` Proof of women dominating the HR departments around the World? (Shhh! If you work for ibibo, don`t forward this to our HR head)

While on the subject, let me tell you that pink slips mean termination only for a few of us. For many others a ‘pink slip` is a reason to close their eyes and think of the woman (or women) in their lives in a pink slip. Besides, a termination in Germany happens through a “blue letter” and in the French military it happens through a “yellow paper.”

Like I was saying…there is way too much pink in my life today. Nope…we aren`t talking of Pink Floyd too. I wouldn`t want to be caught dead listening to Pink Floyd…simply because the band`s first name is ‘Pink` and I am as manly as men come. They might have sold 250 million albums worldwide…but that doesn`t count as long as your first name is ‘Pink`.

By saying that my world has become pink, I am not hinting at the phrase “In the pink,” which when literally translated means excellent condition. I am no second hand diesel Ambassador up for sale that can be ‘In the pink`. Just in case you didn`t know, ‘In the pink` came in vogue during the reign of British queen Elizabeth I, whose favourite flowers were “Dianthus”. Since Dianthus flowers were pink in color they were also known as Pinks. Since then anything that was ‘excellent` was attributed the word Pink.

During the reign of British queen Elizabeth I, it wasn`t unusual to hear statements like:

  • “Ohh that`s a pink Dictator!”
  • “Gosh, that`s a totally pink cannon you going to let lose on the enemy.”
  • “Wish I had such a pink set of pink stockings!”
  • “Will you marry me? I will make your world pink!”

    Anyway, that`s a lot of beating about the pink bush. Let me come to the point. Ever since my daughter Rhea has grown up and started having a taste – she is turning two this March 29, and God a woman develops tastes early – my world has turned upside down. All the blacks, browns & greens have been eclipsed by pink. Now, the only thing black in my house is ….hmm…well…how do I say this…hmm…myself. Just when I was getting comfortable being black my World is turning pink.

    It isn`t easy being called a Nigerian in school (because this South Indian ended up studying amongst fair North Indians) and kids walking up to you saying, “hey can you help me collect my 15 million US Dollars from the daughter of a Nigerian Dictator I have come to know online?” (Don’t know what fraud we are talking about here? Click Here to learn more)

    In the last 32 years, I have grown to like black. In fact, from the day I came to know that Snoop Dogg was a black too….I have started loving myself. Now my daughter is turning it upside down….she is going all out for the Pink. See how my drawing room looks …



    More cute pictures of Rhea

    Help me handle it better. I agree I cry while watching movies – for example, in the movie Hum Dil De Chuke Sanam…I cried when Aishwarya Rai decided to stay with Ajay Devgan, in Sholay I cried when Sanjeev Kumar couldn`t lift the rifle from the ground, and in Rock On, I cried when Arjun Rampal runs back from the airport and joins his band on the stage ….but does this mean I love pink?!

    If I don’t sort this out, very soon I might end up with a house full of items like these:

    My favourite color is Red and I love White too. But ask me to mix them…no sir, I won`t. I don`t mix my colors!

    Other Funny reads where I mentioned “Pink”

    Another humor writer launches a book
    When the Rajasthan Govt gifted me a camel
    Taking revenge, the Jammy way
    Encounters of the third kind
    Every photograph has a story to tell

  • My wife has started complaining. Again.

    It was early 2005 and each day I was discovering something new about my newly wedded wife. We had married each other on 8 September, 2004…or was it 10 September, 2004? Now that I have posted this, I will soon find out from the horse`s mouth.

    Wife handling can be difficult
    A few days before I got married in Anna Poorneshwari temple in Cherrukunnu, Kannur under the watchful eyes of my father in law…many came up to me with their advices. (Read about the marriage here) Here are some of the advices I got.

    Advice 1: Being a Tamilian, how can you marry a Malayali? Don`t you know of the famous Tamil proverb…. “kolay ali yeh nambu nalum malayali yeh nambakudadu”…which when translated to English means, “One can trust a murderer but never trust a Malayali.”

    Advice 2: Don`t get married. I know a few places we can visit. Thankfully when I expressed my displeasure by questioning what kind of places he meant, the colleague ended up saying: “Pubs, Beaches, Malls…etc”

    Advice 3: If it is such a big issue, why don`t you get a washing machine? Or a maid?

    Advice 4: Why shouldn`t you age gracefully?

    Advice 5: Don`t get married. It is all rosy till you keep meeting for only 2-3 hours a day. Once you get married you will start discovering things about Rekha you didn`t know. Things she has successfully hidden from you all this while. Get a good pet instead.

    Advisor 5 was very right. I started discovering new things about Rekha. Things she had managed to successfully hide from me. In fact, on the day of our marriage I came to know that she loved vegetables more than she loved me. Even as I walked into the honeymoon suite, she blurted out: “Rajan, will you show me the nearest vegetable vendor here.” I was a bit disappointed but didn`t say much. The next day I wrote a blog post: How I bought vegetables for a heavy price.

    A few nights sleeping with my wife (that`s legal I hope!) I realized that there is no space called MY PRIVATE SPACE in marriage. Rekha is the ‘Rolling Stone` type of sleeper. As in, she rolls on the bed and pushes the other occupants down. The double bed that was all my own suddenly wasn`t mine. To tell you the truth, on our first night itself I was pushed down from the bed and it was embarrassing to walk out of the bedroom next day with an injured forehead and blue eye. Especially because 19 relatives of ours were staring at the door, when I opened it and walked out sheepishly. That`s when I wrote a post titled: I hate to sleep with my wife.

    After a few more days, I came to know that my new wife doesn`t know to cook and thus doesn`t like visiting the kitchen. This became another blog post titled Kitchen…. place to rule.

    With time I realized that unlike me Rekha liked to be outside of home, so my transportation costs were bound to go up. Since she loved to travel, many a times she wouldn`t be home and when she wasn`t home I was to ensure her wish list got implemented (Read about her wish list here). We had never discussed this before marriage.

    If you are married, you have probably realized that women can be dangerous when they want to be. Rekha gets dangerous and exploitative during dinner time…and that`s when her most outlandish requests like “Shall we drive down to Jaipur?” “Shall we buy a dressing table tomorrow?” “Shall we go to watch Hero No. 1?” surface. Around this time I tried to warn other men by writing a post titled: Watch out for dinner time.

    A month after marriage I noticed that my towels weren`t to be found where I left them. When I raised the issue with Rekha, it backfired and I was accused of being next to Satan – cleanliness being next only to God. From my washroom habits, to eating habits to wardrobe management…everything underwent a dramatic change. That`s when an exasperated me wrote a blog post titled: Cleanliness, my foot!

    Let me warn you, some of the things you will discover in your wife will be apparent. But some, you will have to figure out. Like how I used all my Sherlock Holmes genes to find out that my wife was spying on me. In the first six months she would call me four times daily to check what I was doing. Like the gullible males that we all are, I thought it was her love for me till the time I found out she was keeping a tab on her handsome husband. As if girls were registering online & then lining up for a kiss from me. That`s when I wrote Check-mate over the phone.

    Over the next two years this blog saw many posts on her – some good and some bad…but all posted under Category Wife & Category My Family & In-Laws.

    In the last two years, Rekha related posts have dried down. Perhaps because a new focus area has entered my life – my daughter Rhea. Or perhaps, I have discovered everything I have had to discover about Rekha….and now our personalities fit each other like a jigsaw-puzzle.

    So why are we talking about this now? Because only one hour back my wife complained that I had stopped writing about her on Ouchmytoe. What do I do now? Do I start writing about Rekha all over again? Need your advice. This time, I promise I will stick to the advice I get.

    Other Funny Reads

    Flirt with controversy but never marry her
    Now Rekha and I fight for different reasons
    Rekha is no longer my better half!
    Mother in law vs daughter in law
    Home alone for Jammy

    Saga of the Little Finger

    What Mel Brooks once said is so true. A few decades back he had said that slightest of an issue with us is a tragedy and the biggest of issues with others is comedy (read exact quote below).

    I remember going to a funeral of a diabetic patient and chuckling, thinking the possible newspaper headlines the next day: “So-and-so died a sweet death”, “So-and-so killed by sweet poison”. If the person had been run over by a car, I remember the headline being, “Car that runs on Diesel, sometimes runs on so-and-so”.

    I also saw comedy when I was sitting in the hospital watching thro` an open door….a TB afflicted husband in bed and his wife asking the doctor, “When can we take him home?” I heard the question as “How contagious is his TB – will we be safe if we take him home now?”

    Mind you, I have been cursed with the same ability to see humor when my own are in trouble. My father was diagnosed with cancer in mid-2005 and while attending to him also I saw the same humor in hospital. Here are some of the articles that were written while waiting for the first rays of the sun to hit through the hospital`s dull-gray window: Nurses…, Two things that are never bought at the same time, My visit to the hospital, and Diseases – the evolution.

    *My dad is no more. And I miss him – especially in my victories and defeats. Victories have been more after his departure…perhaps because he is closer to me now than ever.

    Unfortunately, yesterday God decided to make me the center of the tragedy. It is funny no more. I am not seeing any humor.

    Being the wicket-keeper of ibibo`s cricket team of 15 odd hard-boiled cricketers is tough. Even tougher is ensuring all the balls missed by the batsmen are caught behind the stumps on a cold winter morning. On one such attempt, I sprained the little finger of my right hand, which is now the size of a beer bottle. Only…it doesn`t give me the kick.

    The last 24 hours have been miserable. We had a few guests visiting us yesterday …which included two five year olds….and I couldn`t pull off the ‘Pull My Finger` joke on them. In case you don`t know what ‘Pull My Finger` joke is all about…well…you ask a kid not more than 6-7 years old to pull your finger and the moment he/she pulls it you let out a fart. You should watch the kid laugh, to believe the joke`s effectiveness.

    I did try to gather courage and pull off the joke on one of the five year olds…but the moment she pulled my little finger…I only let out a shriek.

    Even as I type, I am having difficulty breathing. Thanks to my swollen little finger, I haven`t been able to pick my nose for the last 24 hours….and you are aware…when the garbage man doesn`t come the bin is always full.

    God…is this your way of showing me the middle finger?

    Other Funny Reads

    # Shopping carts can be dangerous
    # Getting my hair cut under a tree
    # Entering a new house in Gurgaon
    # Mother in law vs daughter in law

    My first suit and why I feel guilty

    After managing 33 years of my life without a suit, I finally bought one a few days back. Yes! I am now a proud owner of a Giovanni suit. For you lesser mortals who have never heard of Giovanni…well, it`s an entry level suit brand that`s sold in Lifestyles and Shopper Stops of the World.

    Before we get into how I was forced into buying a suit, let us go through a bit of history.

    Anthropologists believe that the need for clothes didn`t arise immediately after Adam & Eve plucked the forbidden apple and brought forth a new emotion called ‘shyness` but happened only 100,000 years ago when being ‘shy` started becoming fashionable. Clothing has come a long way and now being ‘Not Shy` is fashionable. More on that later, though.

    As can be guessed, the first clothes were made from natural elements – animal skin, grasses, leaves, and bones. If you lived near a source of water, you also had clothes made of shells. Since, Eva Mendes hadn`t yet posed in PETA`s anti-fur campaign one can safely assume that back then people were wearing clothes made of fur too.

    When my parents entered this World sometime in late 1940s and early 1950s, cotton & Rayon were the World`s favourite clothing materials. All the Nylon produced was being used up in making parachutes which dropped airmen over enemy lines.

    My maternal grandfather who was a Head Constable in the Police Department during the British Era would visit the only garment shop in the town, once a year, and buy meters of a colorful, flowery cloth. He would then take his whole family – six sons and one daughter – to the nearby tailor who sat under a tree to give measurements. Thus, for a whole year after this purchase my grand father`s family would be draped in a colorful, flowery material.

    I laughed, when I first heard this story. But it had its benefits…his children never got lost in town fairs. Once my mother did get lost…but within minutes the family was re-united. The gentleman who re-united the family is known to have said: “I have to be blind to miss a family of nine, all draped in clothes with red flowers on yellow background.”

    My paternal grandfather didn`t believe in clothes. His son (that`s my father) would only get to wear the Khaki shorts that the Government School in Paramakudi, a municipality in Ramanathapuram district in the Indian state of Tamil Nadu, required him to wear. If you are old enough, you probably remember that in those days shorts didn`t have buttons or zippers. My father had to keep re-tying the lace that the front of his shorts had. I remember him saying: “The only saving grace was that, we didn`t have to bend over…as you do while tying your shoe lace.”

    With only one Khaki shorts to wear for a year, they wore off pretty soon. So much so, my father earned the nickname ‘Knife bottoms` for managing to wear off the rear side of his shorts by the sixth month.

    Having spent a year with just one Khaki shorts, my father didn`t want me to endure the same pain. So I started getting two shorts to wear for a year – one on my birthday and another for Diwali. Unfortunately, Diwali and my birthday (26th of April) are separated by six months and I never had two new shorts at any point in my life.

    Having a lot of cousins and short-framed uncles can be a huge boon. Before I was 18, a lot of seconds started coming my way. These were rich cousins and working uncles so the trousers & shirts were good. My first jean of sorts…was a stone wash trouser with ‘Love is Sweet Poison` written on the trouser`s right leg…top to bottom. One of my uncles had bought that after his girl friend had ditched him…and I, who hadn`t even fallen in love, was forced to covey the message to the World.

    As years passed, clothes ceased to be a problem. There were plenty of them…and I could afford to buy one pair every month. But I didn`t. The guilt was too much for me to handle – after all, life had continued even with one torn-at-the-behind khaki shorts.

    A few days back my CEO said I had to attend a sales call the very next day. Corporate etiquettes dictated that I wear a suit or at the very least a blazer on the occasion. Unfortunately the time was short and I had to make do with the best formal attire I could manage – a sky blue shirt and navy blue trouser. Of the nine people in the meeting, I was the only one that didn`t ‘suit` the occasion. I bought my first Giovanni suit the next day.

    “Rekha, I don`t feel comfortable spending Rs 7000/- on one pair,” I told my wife.

    “You need to change with the times. You can`t stick to torn khaki shorts all your life. Clothes make half the man, remember?” My wife replied.

    “What do you mean? Are you insulting me?” I retorted.

    “No no…at 165 cms height you were half a man…and with the suit on…you make a full man.” She responded.

    P.S: No wonder I couldn`t buy a Raymond suit…after all, it is for the complete man!

    Other Funny Reads

    # Today is my 33rd happy birthday
    # Flashback: My days in London
    # When I became a cockroach
    # Getting my hair cut under a tree

    Thank you God for helping us survive winter

    Gurgaon is cold. You probably wonder why I am saying so 18 months after shifting to the city …that`s because you don`t know that I am NOT talking about the ‘attitude` cold but the weather ‘cold`.

    In September 2007 I had written on how a South Indian family was suffering a North Indian winter. In December 2008, I write about how this South Indian family is thankful to God for everything he has provided us with, to handle winter better.

    To start with, thank you God for providing us with two arms. If humans didn`t have two arms, it would have looked real funny with the two arms of a sweater dangling on the sides. We all would have looked like Sanjeev Kumar of Sholay. Thanks also God, for providing us with only a single neck…if you have given us two necks…imagine the difficulty in getting into a woolen pullover with just one entrance!

    Winter
    Surviving winter together brings the family closer

    Thank God once again for the oil radiator heaters, which my wife tells me, grow in trees similar to pineapple`s. The house was getting colder with each passing day and I was stone-walling buying a heater because they cost upwards of Rs 5000/-. My wife kept on pestering me to buy a heater but I just refused. That`s when, a neighbor told my willing wife that heaters actually grow in a tree similar to pineapple`s and she could get it for my wife. Now we all sleep peacefully in a warm room. I don`t know how to thank you for this creation of yours. I guess, I will thank you once and for all, the day I find out who stole Rs 6,500/- from my wallet.

    God, thanks for introducing ‘death` into this World without which we wouldn`t have had crude oil. Without crude oil there would be no petroleum extraction and thus no by-products of petroleum extraction like ‘Vaseline`. Thus, we wouldn`t have been able to ensure our one-kiss-a-month agreement (which we have got into after 4 years of marriage & a kid) if you hadn`t introduced ‘death` in this World.

    “Hey, its 30th and we haven`t kissed this month,” the male voice is heard saying.

    “In the light of hard winter and cracked lips do you want to extend the period to two months?,” the female voice gives it a shot.

    “Why don`t we use Vaseline for cracked lips? For the hard winter, we have anyway plucked an oil radiator heater from a tree…what say?” the male voice persists.

    “OK fine. Now, where did I keep my Vaseline…it has been 30 days…?” the female voice trails.

    For the doubting Thomases, the 2-second kiss happens.

    Thanks also God for providing us a separate set of ears. If you had made a simple design mistake, where we breathed and heard from the same organ….we would have found it difficult to manage the winter. Now, we just wear a cap and pull it low over the ears to keep the cold out.

    Thank you also God for showing us winter…for if there were no winter…we wouldn`t enjoy spring as much. Though in Gurgaon, the only difference between a winter and spring is that during winter we can`t see the buildings through fog.

    My apologies God…but I have a ‘sorry` to say as well. In order to shorten the winter – one of your best creations – I have borrowed Rs 100,000 from my friend and promised to pay him after the winter is over. After all, didn`t WJ Vogel say: “To shorten winter, borrow some money due in spring.”

    PS: In summers…..the washroom taps provide a hot stream of water in the afternoons…why do they go missing in winter? Any ideas?

    Other Must Reads

    # Your Zodiac sign & dieting
    # Guess what we bought this weekend…
    # Smokes, weather and flowers
    # Toilet Paper…very useful in winters
    # The day I drank acid and lived to tell the tale

    Confusion over heaven & hell

    Last Friday I got a little drunk. A few of my friends had come down from Pune and we had a party in Delhi. It was 10.30 p.m. when we finished (old men wrap up early!). I don`t drive while drinking. And vice versa. The drunk, adventurous ‘me` decided to take a bus to Gurgaon. My other drunken friends bade me farewell and walked to their car while I stood inside the bus looking like a fool.

    Have you ever tried being in a bus when you are drunk? You have to hold the bar on top, just so you don`t fall and you got to look out the window at the scenery and also keep an eye out for the conductor – man, it was like being a fighter pilot and managing all thise dials on his dashboard.

    There was a seat available next to a 50-something lady. I walked up close and sat down. I guess I smiled too.

    “Are you drunk?” The 50-something lady asked.

    “I am sorry but I am.” I blabbered.

    “Are you a carefree bachelor or are you married?”

    In a non-drunk state, I wouldn`t have given out this information. But ended up blurting out: “No madam…I have a wife and a 20 month old daughter.”

    “You are going to hell young man!” She said.

    I tried my wittiest best and asked her: “Am I in the wrong bus, then?”

    But my joke didn`t impress her and we never spoke after that. But her statement made me wonder why hell was any different from Mother Earth. And what was the big deal about heaven?

    Between you and me…I would any day prefer heaven. But if Advani and Narendra Modi are going to be in heaven because they are so religious, I would rather be in hell.

    I am also told hell would have far more interesting people than heaven.

    Heard about the case where a couple in heaven are married for eternity just because they couldn`t find a lawyer to file divorce proceedings? Now you know why only marriages are MADE in heaven and not BROKEN in heaven. Because all the lying lawyers in bloody hell!

    One thing that swings the balance towards heaven is that one doesn`t need to work there. But what is the guarantee? What if God goes back on his word? What if there also I will have to put up with a boss for a monthly salary? I am sure God would want to play God in heaven. Well, there is one instance when I would want to be in heaven…when God takes birth on Earth again as a Lord Krishna, or Buddha or Rama.

    But there is one disadvantage of not working in heaven. There is a gray area – what about our hobbies…can I indulge in gardening? If no…does that mean that I can`t grow my own opium?

    Actually, thee is one more disadvantage. Heaven has the habit of throwing people out. As a kid I remember this one instance where I was in a hospital and they showed me a baby and said she is your sister. I asked my mom: “Where did she come from?”

    And without blinking her eyes, my mom said: “The people in heaven have given her to us.”

    I could see why the people in heaven wanted us to have this small baby girl…she was all wrinkled and dirty and ugly…but my mom was too innocent to understand all that.

    One problem with heaven though is, nobody cooks food there. God, Pope John Paul II and Mother Teresa, the only three people in heaven (as of data on November 26, 2008), prefer to eat canned food. It doesn`t make economical sense to cook for just three people…that too during such a bad Global financial meltdown.

    Some internet user’s thoughts on the “72 virgins” concept
    Koran doesn`t specify that the faithful get 72 virgins apiece. For this we look at Hadith, traditional sayings credited to Muhammad but without proof. Hadith number 2,562 known as the Sunan al-Tirmidhi says, “The least reward for the people who enter Heaven is 72 wives and 80,000 servants, and a house over which stands a dome of aquamarine, ruby and pearls.” Read More

    Hell on the other hand has its own benefits. An ugly ex-colleague of mine, who had to return from Hell because his visa expired, told me that he spent six months in hell with a Super Model. When drunk, my friend confessed that the Super Model was being punished for her bad behavior on Earth…by being forced to stay with this ugly ex-colleague of mine.

    I have realized…hell always needs a little more water (for the thirsty workers), a cool breeze (for cooling the oven like atmosphere) and few more good people.

    By the way, does anybody know if it is true that the faithful get “80,000 servants and 72 wives”? For then, I would be sure to head for heaven…

    Can you tell me what all I will have to do to avoid hell?

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